My Personal Angel
by Sapphirianna
Summary: [Reader Insert] You just received awful news that shattered your heart to pieces. Left out on the streets of London to cry, you fall into a daze. Suddenly, a man appears before you, shielding you from the downpour with his black umbrella. Will this man become the light in your hopelessly dark life? (EnglandxReader) Rated T to be safe. Awful summary is awful.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm sorry."

Those two words struck me with an unimaginable force. Certainly not for the first time in my short life, I felt my throat tighten in a vain attempt to silence the oncoming sobs. The man placed a piece of paper into my numb hands. I watched through my eyelashes as his shiny military shoes turned and stiffly walked away.

My knees wobbled as I leaned against the brick wall with something that resembled a strangled sigh. Hands trembling, I ran my freezing fingers through my (h/c) hair.

Even though I knew that he was already gone, I kept the tears that were threatening to overflow from spilling over. I slid to the ground, wincing as my arm scraped against the wall. Tiny sprinkles of rain dusted me as I curled up in a tight ball, as if in an attempt to pull myself out of this world.

The pain was unbearable. My chest tightened and tears streamed down my face like a hot river. Silent sobs racked my body as I clutched the wrinkled slip of paper in my iron grasp. It felt like someone had shot me in the heart, leaving an empty void where a vacuum remained, consuming my entire mind. All I could do was to shiver in the increasing rainstorm.

I must have sat like that for a few hours, consumed in my own grief and tears until I dozed off, unfazed by the steady downpour clashing relentlessly on my body.

"Excuse me."

A voice called out to me. I tiled my head up to find a man standing over me with a black umbrella held over my head. I hadn't even noticed his presence until he spoke.

"Excuse me, miss," he said again, leaning down so he could observe me closer. I blinked, my (e/c) eyes dull and red from crying.

"Are you alright?" I watched the man silently. His messy mop of blonde hair stuck to his face as the rain splattered against him. Bright emerald eyes stared at me with a worried intensity from underneath outrageously bushy eyebrows that somehow fitted his sharply dressed image.

Another minute passed before he stuck out his free gloved hand.

"I can't just leave a lady out here in this storm. Would you care for a cup of tea to warm you up?" His heavily accented voice pulled me out of the daze I had been indulging in. I remained silent, however, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help me to my feet. I stumbled at first, my legs like noodles after sitting on them for who knows how long, but he caught me before I fell.

The British man led me down the street to a small café. He opened the door for me and again led me to a small table towards the back of the café. I took my seat and stared numbly at the simple wooden table covered with a clean bleached tablecloth. The blonde ordered something, but my ears never registered his words.

"You've been awfully quiet, love."

I continued to stare at the threads interwoven into the cloth.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, by the way. May I ask what you were doing alone in that rain? It looks like you were there for a while before I stopped to check on you." His concerned voice still gained no response from me. A warm hand suddenly reached over and tiled my chin up so I was eye to eye with him. His green eyes darted to the piece of paper in my grasp.

"May I take a look at that?"

"No!" I suddenly shouted hoarsely, pulling back sharply.

"Oh, so you can talk." Arthur leaned back once again, seemingly unfazed by my sudden outburst. "What's your name, love?"

I sucked in a shaky breath and exhaled.

"_ _. My name is _ _."

"What a lovely name for a lovely lady. Can I ask what you were doing?" he asked softly, watching me with concerned eyes.

"I-" I paused, clutching the slip of paper to my chest. "-would rather not s-say," I hiccupped, tears threatening to spill once again.

Arthur's eyes widened momentarily.

"Oh," he murmured. "Well, how about you tell me about yourself?" Quickly changing the subject, he nodded as the waiter placed two teacups on the table.

"Well…" I watched him as he picked up his cup and sipped from it.

***(~A while later~)***

"Well, _, I believe you should go home. It was a pleasure meeting you. Whatever happened to put you out in the rain like that, you can tell me about." He handed me a strip of his napkin with his number on it. I managed a small smile and stood up.

"Thanks, Mr. Kirkland-"

"Call me Arthur," he interjected with a brilliant smile.

"Arthur. Thank you for the tea and the chat. I'm feeling better." I gave the handsome man a smile and turned to leave, but right as my hand grasped the handle of the door, his voice called out again.

"Be careful, _. You were out there for quite a while. You might have caught a cold."

I turned and saw him collecting his gloves and his umbrella. He walked over and held out his black umbrella.

"It's still raining out there. Here." He was completely serious. I stared at him for a short while before cocking my head slightly to the side and frowning.

"Arthur, you don't have to-" I protested, but he cut me off by flashing his straight white teeth once again in a warm smile.

"No. Take it. My home isn't far from here and I'm sure you need it." With that, he thrust the thing into my hands and pushed the door open. "After you."

"But-" I began as I walked out the door with the umbrella in my hands.

"No buts, just take it, love. I'm sure we'll meet again. You can return it then." Arthur followed me out and closed the door behind us. "Well. Until then, _."

I watched, stunned as the gentleman hurried down the street, pausing only to wave goodbye. I raised a hand and hesitantly waved as well, frowning at the black umbrella in my hand.

"Might as well use it," I mumbled, opening it up and lifting it above my head to shield me from the steady drizzle.

My lips curled up slightly into a small smile as I pulled the napkin piece out of my pants pocket. I gazed at the list of numbers warmly.

I paused and turned my head to look the way the blonde had taken, the piercing ache in my chest now reduced to a dull throbbing as it was pushed to the back of my mind.

"Yeah. I think we'll meet again, Arthur."

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the short and crappy first chapter. I'm still new to these reader insert things. This isn't a major story, just a side project.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, I rolled out of bed with deep bags under my (e/c) eyes and sat on the edge, leaning my elbows on my knees, my (h/c) hair tousled and tumbling down my shoulders in a tangled mess. I stared at the carpet dully, a dull ache in my heart throbbing.

Tears formed reluctantly and one slipped down my pale cheek to splash onto my bare knees. I forced myself up and stumbled over to my dresser to search through the disorganized jumble of multicolored clothing. I tugged on a dark maroon shirt, releasing it from its cotton prison, and pulled open another drawer, revealing a somewhat neat pile of dark blue jeans. I ventured off to take a shower as sunlight poured through the windows of my empty apartment.

I didn't bother with any breakfast, pulling the long sleeves of my shirt down and pausing at my door. There it was, that lonely black umbrella, collapsed and leaning against the wall, casting a light shadow on the pair of plain sneakers thrown haphazardly. A small envelope lay on the floor and I stared at it with foreboding. I sighed and braced myself as I leaned over, collecting the wrinkled paper in my hand. I breathed shakily and fought the tears as I slipped my fingers into the envelope. I pulled out a small bunch of papers. Unfolding them hesitantly, I felt that pang in my chest again and the tears suddenly overtook my vision.

"To Miss (Name) (Last name):

We are sorry to inform you, but your brother has passed in the field of duty-"

I got no further, unable to continue reading as my vision blurred beyond blobs of color. Droplets cascaded and alighted on the page, mingling with the somewhat smudged ink. I let the papers flutter to the floor, unwilling to finish reading the military note. My knees wobbled as I took a step back, my hand covering my mouth in a vain attempt to stifle the oncoming sobs caught in my throat. I didn't want to hear the cries of my own pain echoing in the silent air, almost afraid that they would continue long after I had run out of tears to cry. I retreated to the kitchen, hand landing on the cell phone plugged into the wall. A ruffled napkin sat beside it, numbers scrawled across it in a sophisticated loopy handwriting.

Arthur.

The name rang through my head like a comforting siren. I flipped my old faded blue phone open and carefully typed the digits in, double checking to make sure I didn't mistype.

The dial tone occupied my mind as I stared towards the living room where the pile of pages awaited in disarray.

"Hello?" A strong British accent suddenly pulled me out of my reverie. I jumped and stuttered.

"A-arthur? I-it's (Name)-"

"Oh! (Name)! How are you doing, love?" A faint dusting appeared on my cheeks as his voice called out the word casually.

"F-fine," I lied, trying to conceal the pained cry behind an overly happy giggle.

"You know, love, I'm not very partial to liars." He called me out, a soft chuckle accompanying his "oh come on" tone. I stiffened.

"Tell me what's wrong. No, wait." He cut me off as I opened my mouth to reply. "Meet me at the café, alright love? Great. See you there, love."

The line went dead, leaving me to stare at the screen. I blinked slowly, tears forgotten. My eyes widened as I realized that he was expecting me to be there at the café. I rushed to the door, stuffing the phone into my jeans pocket and only stopping to glance at the pile of discarded ink stained pages (picking one up with a regretful frown) and to grab the umbrella leaning against the wall.

With an inexplicable rush of giddiness, I threw open the door and dashed out, umbrella in hand and a crumpled page in the other, off to see the man that had suddenly brightened my dim life-light.

* * *

A/N: Again, extremely short. I appologize, but there was no other way to cut it. :/

OH YES

Disclaimer: I don't own APH or you. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

The door swung open with a mighty heave and a clash of jingling bells. The entirety of the small café turned their heads, multitudes of various color eyes trained on my slightly bent over frame and heavy rise and fall of my chest. I scrambled to fix my (h/c) tresses as best as I could before that familiar blonde head turned as well.

A split second after I closed the door more gently, customers shrugged and returned to their idle conversations. I clutched the black umbrella to myself as I steadied my breathing and steeled myself to walk to the small table at the back of the room.

I had to maneuver through a maze of tables and waitresses, but eventually found myself staring into the man's striking evergreen irises. His lips slowly curled into a warm smile as he recognized me.

"(Name)! I'm glad you came!" He chirped delightedly, placing his teacup down.

"I-I'm sorry to take time out of your day, Mister Kir-"

"No, it is my pleasure to accompany this lovely lady on this beautiful morning, and I told you, call me Arthur," he cut in, his warm gaze on me. Gesturing to the empty seat across from him, he grinned. "Come, sit. Tell me what's wrong."

Hesitantly, I leaned the umbrella against the wall and took a seat. I glanced up when I heard Arthur clear his throat, finding myself locked once again in that mesmerizing green gaze.

"You sounded distressed over the phone, love. Are you alright?" He watched me with a concerned frown as his simple question remained unanswered. I drew in a suddenly shaky breath as my heart began to throb again. Memories of all those moments of carefree bliss spent with my brother suddenly cascaded through my mind.

"I-I-" was all I could muster as a tight knot formed in my throat, twisting with each breath. Arthur watched me, bringing the alabaster teacup to his lips in respectful silence as I fought with my malfunctioning speech. Feeling my companion's concerned eyes on me, I swallowed harshly and drew in another shaking breath.

"(Name), love, don't stress yourself." A warm hand was placed over mine and I raised my chin. Arthur was frowning, an expression that fit his face like he had worn it long before. My breath caught in my windpipe and I choked out a sob as I unclenched my fist, unleashing the dreaded letter.

His eyebrows crunched together in a curiously concerned expression as he gingerly plucked the paper from my grasp. Shockingly green eyes scanned the printed words with remarkable speed, momentarily widening in realization as he glanced up to find silent tears streaming down my cheek to drop into the already cooling tea set at my fingertips.

"(N-name), I'm so-"

"No, you shouldn't be concerned with a stranger like me. I'm sorry for causing you trouble," I lamented, eyes downcast. I stood, quietly thanking him for the tea and turning to leave.

Something caught my wrist as I took a step forward. I turned to see Arthur's determined frown. It softened with our eye contact.

"Come now, love. You aren't a stranger. Not anymore." He bowed his head for a moment. I could almost see the gears in his head turning furiously. "(Name), are you free today?"

"What?"

"Are you free today?" he repeated, lifting his gaze once again.

"I-I think so," I sputtered, completely caught off guard. "It's Saturday, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded sharply, a flash of sudden mischievousness glinting in his eyes.

"You're coming with me." He quickly fished through his pocket and produced a weathered leather wallet. Leaving a few bills on the table, he grabbed the black umbrella and almost roughly tugged on my wrist. Before I knew it, we were out on the street, treading the cobblestone path with a rather quick pace. I remained silently confused as Arthur navigated through the large mass of pedestrians meandering around the London streets.

"Here. We're here, love." Arthur released my hand with a nervous smile. "Hopefully this'll cheer you up!"

My curiosity lead me to lift my gaze from my companion's face and to the building towering high above our heads. I blinked, dazed.

He had brought me to a place I had always wanted to go, but never had the chance to since I moved from (country) to England.

The clock tower seemed to stretch into the sky forever. My eyes couldn't even register the tip from where we stood below.

Looming above us like a beacon of hope was Big Ben.

* * *

A/N: ANOTHER SHORT CHAPTER. Ugh. I seriously apologize. I don't usually write extremely short chapters. I hope you can bear with me. :/

DISCLAIMER

I don't own APH or you.


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